The End of the End
by Sarra Alcatsol
Summary: Excerpts from ::The First Potter::. Chapters involving the night Harry Lived, Voldemort was Ruined, Sirius was Lost, and Lily Sacrificed.
1. James Potter

-James Potter-  
  
The house was quiet, excepting the whimpers slowly becoming louder as the baby was carried down the stairs to the living room. James smiled at his wife, loving the way she could handle anything, including a squirming boy. As Lily settled on the couch she explained the baby just wouldn't calm down, and he looked so pitiful that she had to bring him down.  
  
"Let me hold him," James said, extending his arms to hold his son. His son. Those two words sounded better than any spell he had uttered or tale he concocted. He cradled the child in his arms, kissing his head, murmuring encouraging things to him.  
  
His son.  
  
James rocked his son till he was asleep.  
  
"It's horrible," Lily exclaimed.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"He is almost a year old," she said, a grin growing on her face, "and he still can't go to bed without being rocked to sleep."  
  
James laughed softly. He surveyed his son's face; it was almost like looking in a mirror, a mirror that reflected what you looked like twenty years ago. Excepting that his son's eyes, though closed at the moment, reflected the eyes of his wife.  
  
His wife.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" Lily queried, noticing the look growing on James's face. "You look like you did when you won the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts, that mix of pride and elation. It's unmistakable."  
  
"Oh, Lily. This is so much better than anything I ever accomplished or achieved." Tears filling his eyes he continued, "Lily . . . if we hadn't hidden ourselves do you realize what would happen to our beautiful boy?"  
  
She knew. He could tell she knew by the way her eyes brimmed with tears also. He crossed the room and sat next to her on the burlap sofa. James Potter sat his child, Harry, on his lap and engulfed Lily in his arms; so happy this moment had finally arrived.  
  
Then it was over.  
  
There was a loud rapping on the door, but before Lily or James could move it burst to pieces. The man, if you can call him that, who was standing in its place was none other than the tormentor himself.  
  
Lord Voldemort.  
  
"Good evening folks." His vile voice hissed.  
  
Everything happened in an instant, James immediately was on his feet, wand revealed and pushing Harry into Lily's arms.  
  
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"  
  
Their eyes met and in that very last glance they bid a heart-wrenching farewell. Lily spun and stumbled from the room clutching her precious son. James, once sure of their retreat, turned and faced Voldemort. He was only sure of one thing, Harry must live.  
  
James aimed a few curses at Voldemort, who in turn laughed and called from his own wand the death curse. James felt the curse envelope him in a green light, and penetrate his skin, it was telling his body to sleep, eternally.  
  
James let one last sigh from his lips and succumbed to his sleep.  
  
"Lily..."  
  
-End James Potter- 


	2. Lily Evans Potter

-Lily Evans Potter-  
  
Lily felt safe and secure in James's arms. She was so happy to be away from the craziness of the tormented wizarding world. She felt satisfied that she and James had tricked Voldemort by making their secret-keeper Peter. Lily shed tears of joy at the beauty of it all. She was relieved this moment had finally come.  
  
Then it was over.  
  
There was a loud rapping on the door, but before Lily or James could move it burst to pieces. The man, if you can call him that, who was standing in its place was none other than the tormentor himself.  
  
Lord Voldemort.  
  
"Good evening folks." His vile voice hissed.  
  
Everything happened in an instant, James immediately was on his feet, wand revealed and pushing Harry into Lily's arms.  
  
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"  
  
Their eyes met and in that very last glance they bid a heart-wrenching farewell. Lily spun and stumbled from the room clutching her precious son. She raced through the hallway and ran up the stairs. She was trying to ignore the thought that she heard those deadly words permeate from the Potter living room down stairs. Suddenly a bright green light filled the hallway she had just left.  
  
Lily stood there clutching her baby, and her heart stopped. She felt it in her innermost soul.  
  
She felt his love and life vanish from the face of the Earth . . . her James was dead.  
  
Lily would have stared into the nothingness that was now her being; until she felt the bundle within her arms shift so he could breathe better. Lily's eyes locked on the little mirror images of her own, Harry had felt it too. Somehow even at that young age Harry knew that he no longer had a daddy. Lily watched with her shattered heart as a single tear slipped down Harry's cheek.  
  
And Lily knew what must be done.  
  
She turned and raced up the stairs reaching Harry's little bedroom, she gathered his baby things found Harry his little cap, picked him up, and turned to leave through the door. She opened it to get an eyeful of Voldemort, no longer wearing his cloak, but standing there unhidden and seemingly unafraid.  
  
"I've come to pay the little man a vis-" Voldemort was unable to finish because of the door that slammed into his face and flung him against the wall.  
  
The door was reopened within a heartbeat, and Voldemort was standing in the doorway, his face bleeding profusely, "GIVE ME THE CHILD." Came the deep rumble of a voice too angry to care what it sounded like.  
  
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she pleaded with a vengeance, throwing Harry's diaper bag at Voldemort's head. He dodged it but he was nearly knocked over again when Harry's stroller was flung at him. He laughed to himself, so as to push aside the fear that this little woman was throwing things of incredible size at him, while grappling a baby boy.  
  
"Stand aside you silly girl." He spat blood on the pure white carpet; Lily was wearing his already absent patience thin.  
  
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please!" Lily was maneuvering herself around the room so Voldemort would not corner her. "I'll do anything!"  
  
"THEN GIVE ME THE BOY!" he raged.  
  
Lily was taken aback at the sheer amount of hatred pouring from his voice. Lily felt her back touch the cool wood of Harry's crib, he had done it . . . Lord Voldemort had cornered her.  
  
"Stand aside now," he was done playing, he wanted his revenge. Now.  
  
"Not Harry, please no, take me! Kill me instead!" her tears were flowing free.  
  
Lily watched Voldemort pulling his wand from somewhere in his black and murderously flowing robes.  
  
"Not Harry! Please . . .have mercy . . . have mercy . . ." Lily knew she was knocking on death's door, reluctantly, but she was knocking on the large, wooden, twin castle doors. At these large doors, time slows and you become deaf to all noise, just as it did for Lily. She looked from Voldemort's moving mouth and out stretched wand to her baby boy who was calmly watching the scene from her arms. Their eyes met and another baby tear slipped from his mirror eyes.  
  
He knew what would happen . . .  
  
Lily spun herself between Harry and the impending curse, and with her everlasting time she kissed Harry gently on the forehead. The curse spread through the air into her eyes, hair, and her skin. She felt the curse course through her and tell her heart to stop, it told her brain to quiet. And they did.  
  
The last conscious decision Lily made was to not fall on Harry, so her effort to save his tiny life would not be crushed under her dead weight.  
  
She fell and the last hope for Harry's life fell with her . . . or so it seemed to the laughing Lord Voldemort.  
  
-End Lily Evans Potter- 


	3. Peter Pettigrew

-Peter Pettigrew-  
  
The darkness succumbed into him, but he, never to it. His watery blue eyes blinked in and out from existence. This was it, the night, the moment of his victory. He lifted his pale hand with great unease and rapped thrice on the dark wooden door.  
  
"Who is there?" came the voice of death.  
  
The dumpy man took a breath so his voice wouldn't shake, but to no avail. "It i-is your ssservant m-master."  
  
He door began to creak open. Soft light poured into the hallway and the servant threw his body to the cool flagstone floor.  
  
"Get up before you dirty the floor."  
  
"Ye-yes m-maser!" Wormtail stood to his full height of five measly feet, still bowing his head.  
  
"Well . . . get in here fool."  
  
Wormtail squeaked and entered into the glowing room. His master was alone and sitting in the throne one of his loyal Death Eaters had made for him. Peter gulped and slowly dared to raise his eyes to his master's face. The arrow of fear was cold and it pierced his heart to the very last atom. He beheld the beady black eyes fully cloaked in hatred, they were staring at the fire . . . no . . . through he fire at all of their enemies.  
  
"Wormtail, do you realize that I was slighted by these poor excuses for wizards, these Potters yet again?" Voldemort spat out the name, Wormtail realized it held a foul taste in his mouth. The hatred burning in the master's eyes spread to his tight lips and short squashed nose. The nose was drawn up in disgust of these ignorant wizards.  
  
"Edward Potter and his wife were stupid to not join my ranks." He let out a low grumble that only slightly resembled a laugh. "I believed I made a wonderful example out of them."  
  
This grumble was high pitched and ringing through out the small damp room, it most definitely was a cackling hag laugh.  
  
"But NO!" he bellowed. "Their son didn't even listen when I had a faithful wizard slit HER throat! Now I have approached them, the perfect gentlemen, and THE FOOLS HAVE REFUSED ME AGAIN!"  
  
Lord Voldemort stood and faced the cowering bundle of a man before him. He drew out his prized thirteen-and-a-half inches of ebony and phoenix feather and traced Wormtail's features of his trembling face.  
  
"You know what I want, servant . . ." Voldemort whispered.  
  
"The Potters are in hiding." Wormtail gained a bit more courage when Voldemort stood up and turned his back to him.  
  
"I know that you IDIOT!" he was shaking with rage.  
  
Wormtail began squeaking and pleading, "B-but my M-master! I am their secret keeper!"  
  
The tall back in front of him straightened and the head of Lord Voldemort tilted.  
  
"I'm sorry Wormtail." His voice was still dangerous. "I didn't hear you right. YOU are their secret keeper? Why would the Potters trust YOU?"  
  
He slowly turned and saw his loyal servant no longer shaking. Wormtail was no longer scared; he knew he had real information to finally give his wonderful master.  
  
"The wizard called Sirius Black owled me this morning. I traveled to Hogwarts were Dumbledore and five other wizards cast me as the Potter's secret keeper. They thought I was Sirius Black because I had taken a polyjuice potion to cover my identity. James and Lily were persuaded by Sirius to make me their secret keeper. I know where the Potters lie, unsuspecting."  
  
Voldemort's small eyes widened so large they ere an amazing two inches in diameter.  
  
"Wormtail, you do realize that f you are sending me into a trap that EVERY single Death Eaters will be after you for murdering their master."  
  
Wormtail gulped and nodded. "I am well aware of that."  
  
"Where . . . are . . . they?"  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
Peter sat in the darkness of the Leaky Cauldron, drinking to his wonderful health. Jack-o-Lanterns were floating about the place lighting up the few wizards that had decided to come out on this dark and dreary Halloween.  
  
Peter was cheerily guzzling down Butterbeers, letting the warm liquid slip down his throat and flow through his entire body. The warmth was always needed after meeting with his master. Peter took a deep breath and pushed aside the last tankard he would drink. His head was feeling light and bubbly, Peter snorted, fell face first into the table and slumbered.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
Screams erupted through the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
"THE POTTERS! THEY HAVE DIED AT THE HANDS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO!"  
  
Peter jolted wake from a very disturbing nightmare, he dreamed that He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named had killed the Potters. Peter very quickly realized this was no dream.  
  
James and Lily were dead. He was responsible and no one knew it.  
  
He could share his victory with no one. Most definitely not his master because his master would think HE did everything himself. When Peter had hangovers he always saw his master as a bit less grand than he really was.  
  
Peter tuned out the wailing voices from his head, unable to sort through them. It was all things he already knew. This job had finally paid off, and tonight Voldemort would finally have to admit how valuable Peter actually was to him.  
  
People were screaming and wailing, but Peter was also starting to detect some cheerful shouts. Cheerful shouts? Peter shook his clouded head to try and make sense of what they were saying. His head was simply too misty. He rubbed his watery eyes with his puffy hands and still couldn't make any sense out what the witches and wizards were yelling over.  
  
A walk in muggle London had always cleared his head, so Peter decided he should take one. He slipped out the front door of the Leaky Cauldron bumping into shrouded figures as he passed through. He mumbled some 'Pardon Me's and continued into the street. It was about ten in the morning and people were jus getting out to do their shopping. Peer's head seemed instantly cleared, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his mussed robes and strolled down the street.  
  
Peter smiled to himself; this was going to be the best day of his life.  
  
"Pettigrew . . ." a dangerously low voice snarled behind him.  
  
Peter's muscles tensed up, how stupid he was for forgetting that there was one other person whom knew his secret.  
  
Sirius Black.  
  
Peter turned, wide-eyed and open mouthed to Sirius.  
  
"Have you heard the news?"  
  
Fake tears welling up in his eyes Peter began, "Yes I know about the Potters. That's so sad! James and his wife and child . . ."  
  
"Oh no, Wormtail." Sirius stood up straight, spreading his arms in a friendly way. "You seem to not have heard the wonderful news! Harry Potter isn't dead!"  
  
The news struck Wormtail like a lightening bolt, "He- he isn't? That's - how did that happen?" Wormtail began to back away from Sirius, if Harry hadn't died . . . then what had happened?  
  
"Oh no. When Lord Voldemort" - Wormtail flinched - " cast Avada Kedarva on James and Lily's child . . . the spell backfired at Voldemort."  
  
Realization was pounding Wormtail . . .  
  
"Your master is dead." Sirius spit at Wormtail's feet.  
  
Wormtail gasped and sucked in the last breath he would take as a human for twelve years . . .  
  
"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU!?"  
  
Confusion spread cross Sirius's young, handsome features. Wormtail had his wand behind his back and muttered a spell to slice off his finger with. The pain seared up into his arm, 'It's all for the best, it's all for the best' Wormtail told himself.  
  
Sirius realized what was going to happen and whipped his wand from his cloak. Before he could utter anything, Wormtail's mouth opened and closed in silent speech. The street directly behind Sirius exploded in cement, blood, and screams.  
  
Through it all Wormtail shrunk to his truest form, a rat, and slinked away under the glaring eyes of Sirius and into the sewer system of muggle London.  
  
-End of Peter Pettigrew-  
  
-Or not.- 


End file.
